


Harmony of the Angels

by Lady_Anput



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Backstory Exercise, Drabble, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 21:57:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15805362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Anput/pseuds/Lady_Anput
Summary: This is a backstory for how I'm writing Angela in a roleplay, but there's so, so little about Zency that I figured I would share. If it's not your cup of tea, move on, but if it is, welcome to the smallest rarepair in the fandom to ever rarepair!





	Harmony of the Angels

The first time she met him, there was no affiliation to Overwatch, just a surgeon trying to help the world where she could, a woman with the means to help and a heart too big for her own good. Mondatta was a visionary - and Miss Ziegler felt sympathy for his cause. She wanted nothing more than to see him succeed, to see him unite people into thinking differently.

She had no need for funds - aside from the simple things of her travel and basic necessities (her chocolate stash among that, she would never give that up, even in years to come) - and she was more than happy to donate to his cause, to be benefactor even if it wasn’t out in the public light. Colleagues had caught wind and tried to dissuade her, to warn it was nothing but a waste of time and she was in danger; not only from them, but her image would be ruined.

It was that kind of thinking that soured Angela’s mood; Omnics could be trusted, and she’d prove it. Mondatta had done nothing but good, pushed for only positivity and equality among people. It wouldn’t sully her image, if anything her presence could possibly help more than hinder. Surely she had some form of influence by now, if not on her colleagues than on the more easily impressionable public she devoted her life’s work to. Nothing would deter her from her decision - it was a sort of inner peace when she fully decided, and she knew it was the right thing to do.

Mondatta had been nothing but polite to her - inviting her to a dinner to thank her in person and allow the discussion of donations and what she _could_ do to help. Such a stark difference; the Omnics in their simple robes, Angela dressed to the nines like she would’ve in any other important event - how many times had she forced a smile to play nice to someone in her field? It was nice to be sincere for a change, for something she wholeheartedly believed in - It was the first time she had met him; a quieter Omnic, Zenyatta.

Dinner was uneventful, business as usual, but it was enjoyable. When she wasn’t discussing Mondatta’s future plans and hopes - and he was distracted by another - it was quiet words with his brother, a bright smile and a quiet laugh. 

She felt more at home here, with these two, than she had in years in the medical field. She’d never give up the position she had clawed her way into, there was too much influence, too much potential to _help_ , but it was such a comforting change, she couldn’t ignore it.

Weeks later, despite Overwatch picking her up as a Medical Officer, she agreed on the one stipulation she was still free to do as she pleased in her free time. She wasn’t about to be policed every step of the way - she was there to help in the medical aspect of the group, nothing more, and it would further her own research into VALKYRIE. Dual purpose.

She met with Mondatta again, privately, to discuss her ongoing assistance, and Angela’s salary from Overwatch was split between her own living needs and Valkyrie funding, to Mondatta’s cause under an ‘anonymous’ name - the Omnic’s idea, if only to keep Overwatch out of it, and she agreed in a heartbeat.

She was just glad to still be helping, no matter how small it seemed to herself.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next time she met him was sheer chaos. An abduction, and she had fought _tooth and nail_ with Morrison to be put on that roster - using the excuse of a healer was needed, what if their troops went down? It had been an uphill battle - why had it taken him so _long_ to get a group together? She’d never be able to forgive herself if something happened to Mondatta - let alone look Zenyatta in the eye again. 

How many protocols and rules had she broken to reassure Zenyatta that he was safe, in the few letters she sent, just kidnapped, that she hadn’t gotten a difference in medical reports, and what she could snoop through, he hadn’t _died_...yet. Angela knew the brothers were close - memories of her own parents lost to the war, how it haunted her, but it steeled her resolve; if she could prevent someone from losing a family member to this wretched war, she was all for it.

While she sent out far more letters to Zenyatta than she probably should’ve (updates once a week, and it was so far from the base to Nepal, she figured he got them all at once with her luck and it’d be for naught) but it was the thought that counted. There was even a few she hadn’t sent - fears, worries, nightmares she couldn’t escape. It had been calming to write them out to the one who had never judged her, and had accepted her just as easily as Mondatta had - but the ones of her darker mindset she hadn’t sent.

No, it wasn’t her place to bother the Omnic, even for all his reassurances of enlightenment and peace of mind. She’d hold her burden a little longer, keep her demons caged just long enough…

And the Uprising mission had been chaotic - a new recruit, Reinhardt was reckless as always, and Lindholm...She was glad there was one friendly face there, two technically, but there had been so much worry - a prototype she was still tweaking off field never should’ve been with them...but it had been successful.

The three with her probably figured her tears on the flight home were from stress of actually being present in a battlefield, not that it was the stress of almost losing a dear friend, panicking over teammates, and struggling to defend _herself_ when cornered - omnics had been so kind to her in the past, to see what they were capable of up close and personal, not just wounds inflicted on people she was working on, was heartbreaking.

It’s the final letter she writes, for awhile, letting Zenyatta know she’s fine, that the mission was a success and his brother is fine. It’s given to Mondatta with the instructions of ‘if you don’t go visit him personally, can you send it for me?’ as she returns back to her work.

Funding continued to Mondatta from her salary, what she could, even at Mondatta’s reassurance she had done more than enough. Her funds were split evenly; VALKYRIE research, and Mondatta’s cause, especially since he had to repair what the event had ruined.

It was the least she could do, and throwing herself into her research allowed her to ignore the haunting thoughts of ‘What If’ had the mission gone differently. Morrison had been so worried about watching out for the other Overwatch members...But wasn’t that the whole thing? Weren’t soldiers supposed to be willing to die no matter the cause to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves? 

The whole thing just made her head hurt, and kept her up at night.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next time she sees him, it’s on the floor of a ruined home - everything was thrown off the walls, the entire residence looked like a tornado had hit it; it was just Angela in her mourning. This home...it the only place she could flee _safely_ after the explosion - how much research did she lose? How many colleagues? How many were trapped under the rubble that she couldn’t save? - and he had tracked her here. In his worry at hearing the news, he was here, and Angela’s tears just broke harder.

Still wearing her Valkyrie suit - oh how it sparked and shorted and _hurt_ , it’d been on too long, it was the only thing keeping her alive though right now - broken wings sagged behind her and she just sobbed into the Omnic’s comforting touch. She wasn’t going to ask how, or where he came from, what all he had dropped when he heard the news, but he was here.

Her mind was a dark place, haunting her, mocking her, and she found herself confessing before she could stop the truth from tumbling forward.

_’I..I found one of the Commanders, I couldn’t bring him back, the prototype wasn’t ready...I...it’s all my fault.’_

And the tears start anew. She was so drawn into perfecting her research, into helping Mondatta on the side - not that she’d ever regret it - that she had been so stupidly blind to what was happening around her. Her guilt was going to drown her, and she knew it.

Hiding against the monk was really all she could do, eventually forcing herself asleep, the pain and emotional trauma wreaking havoc on her as she struggled with nightmares while healing.

She refused to go back. Not with the scattered Overwatch Agents - the disbanding was a godsend, in her opinion, saving those left.

There was no loyalty to any side - Remnants of Overwatch or whatever side sprang up to combat the omnics - what funding she got was put into her research, into perfecting Valkyrie. She couldn’t afford another hiccup, not again, she can’t afford to be less than the perfect medic, the image of perfection that everyone could fall back on. It was an unhealthy goal, but it kept her running most days.


End file.
